lemonade
by darasun
Summary: however long the night, the dawn will break eventually TRORY


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She liked to think of herself as 'R'.

No long, drawn out excuses to dislike herself, no thinking about the complexities a name brought with it.

Simplistic, like pie.

Each slice a part of her, and yet, R was wondering where those pieces had disappeared to.

They went away faster these days.

She got up from bed.

She turned around to make it and started to feel sick.

It was a deep, unfurling pain, a rooted, impending doom.

Emptiness, her lungs contracted.

The air smelled musty, as if moths had resided there overnight.

Her alarm went off.

R wanted to be more on time, but she always woke up three minutes early.

She wished that it didn't happen.

She wanted balance, order, organisation skills.

How was it that she tripped?

It was probably the miles of clothes left around her room, each vying for their own space on her grey carpet.

The grey comforted her, like cookies.

Embedded chocolate, velvet in her mouth.

At those times, simple pleasures, she got to forget.

She treasured forgetting.

It meant her mind going blank, no more thoughts, no more regrets.

It was senses taking over her brain, the one that thought too much.

Lorelai knocked on the door.

She popped her head in.

R smiled.

She recalled a conversation with Tristan last night.

It made her sad.

_"Do you remember?" He had asked suddenly. _

_"No." _

_She was blunt, informative only. _

_"You don't want to?" _

_Concern. _

_"I don't…I don't know."_

_"Why not?"_

_"I'm not sure." _

_Ebbing of frustration. _

_He was quiet quickly. "Are you scared?"_

_"No, I'm okay."_

_"Are you sure?"_

_"I have to go." _

_She knew he could hear the lie, but that was okay. _

_He knew he had to let it go for now._

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R shook her head.

She wanted a cookie.

Something sweet.

She wanted something to delight her.

It'd been too long.

Lorelai had gone.

 R hadn't noticed.

Maybe that was why Lorelai and R hadn't bantered in a long time.

Too many things had disappeared.

First the pie, and now Lorelai.

R licked her lips and pulled back her hair impatiently, with amazing ease.

Maybe it was all becoming too routine.

She wanted silence, most of all.

She had lied.

She was really scared.

She didn't want to say it aloud.

It would probably become life-size.

He would persist, all the time, and she grew small in the process.

_"Remember." He pressed. _

_"Please." _

_She bit her lip. _

_He stopped. _

_"Maybe not today."_

_She might have sighed, she didn't remember. _

_"Okay, Rory."_

_"…It's R."_

_A pause. _

_Then, "It's simple that way for you, isn't it."_

_It wasn't a question. _

And that was okay, because Rory didn't answer it, it would just confuse them both.

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She went to school.

People avoided her.

She tried to keep her gaze steady, icy, but it always gave way before her.

She ducked her head.

She ran into Paris.

Or rather, Paris ran into her.

She seemed startled.

R understood.

Maybe Paris had forgotten her.

And it was okay, to forget.

It came easily.

Paris wanted to say something, it was clear.

R felt herself seizing up.

Paris took a step back, and turned away.

No more pie.

She wanted peace.

She had fight left in her though, and so every day it was like this.

Droning.

She didn't like to think…but sometimes, she thought too much.

He always laughed at her when it got like this.

She wanted to see him.

He made her feel better.

Like cookies, only blonder.

"Maybe you need some coffee."

Tristan smiled at her.

She leaned back onto the bench.

She loved this spot.

Tristan was always found here these days.

She wanted to ask him why, but never could.

Not because she wouldn't, but because she didn't think he would answer.

And that would leave gaps.

Unwelcome ones.

"Maybe you should get me some." She hinted.

He gave her an evil look.

A smirk.

"And what would I get in return?"

She gave him an evil look this time.

"Maybe a smack in the head?"

"…As tempting as that sounds, I'll have to pass."

"Too bad, I'm mighty good at it, or so I'm told."

She paused.

"So where is it?"

"Where's what?"

She gave him a look.

"What, I would just bring a lemon tree to school?"

"Um…yes?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"It's in my locker…" A grin, "Where are we planting it anyway Mary?"

"I found a good place. Come over after school, I'll show you."

He hesitated and glanced at her.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"We can just go straight there."

"Why?"

Confusion.

He gave a smile.

It might have been forced.

Rory liked to fool herself.

She ignored it.

"Save time…duh."

He looked away.

She didn't understand enough to disagree.

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It felt kind of lonely walking up the nestled hill.

She looked around for a moment, panicked for a moment.

But it was okay, he was right behind her.

"Yes Mary?"

He looked at her, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Nothing."

She smiled.

"Why exactly are you the one carrying the lemon tree?" He asked suddenly.

"Why shouldn't I be?" She retorted, "I'm strong."

But for a moment, she didn't remember why she was carrying it.

She didn't even remember buying it.

"I brought it remember?"

"What?"

He looked surprised for a second.

Then corrected himself.

"Nothing."

It was silence after.

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It was getting dark.

But it was getting beautiful, and that was what mattered.

Tristan looked over at her.

She was pleased.

His hand was clasped firmly in hers.

She frowned.

But he interrupted before she had a chance to ask anything.

"You showed up at a really strange time in my life, you know that Mare?"

"What time was that Bibleboy?"

He kissed her.

She was surprised, even though she expected it.

"What?"

He pulled away.

She had her eyes closed.

She wanted this moment.

She wanted to remember it.

_Just let me have this. _

_Let me keep this._

In her eyes right at that moment, he was solidified light.

She shook her head.

He was an infusion of words.

She tried to keep up.

"…what you wanted but it doesn't matter right now. I missed you."

"Missed me?"

She gave a laugh.

"Yeah."

He grabbed her suddenly, pulling her towards him.

His face buried in her neck.

"You're crazy."

She smiled, small.

There was something odd about the way he was shaking.

The sun was glowing.

The light bounced off his face and into the trees, it was pure.

He looked up at her suddenly, and he looked so sad right then.

R frowned, his eyes were dark.

Interlocking of blue.

"-I love you."

"Tristan," She said, she brushed his blond hair out of his eyes, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know."

"What can I do to help?"

"We should get out of here, its…its getting dark."

He looked scared.

Rory didn't think he was talking about the sky, but she didn't ask.

She didn't want to know.

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And maybe that was the extent of her conversations these days.

He said goodbye, slowly, depressingly.

She rubbed his cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

She tried to spur a smile by example.

"I know."

"Bye Tristan."

He grabbed her wrist.

"…Could you not say bye?"

Her brow furrowed.

She gave a nervous laugh.

"What am I meant to say?"

"I'll see you soon Tristan." He said, he tried to joke.

"I'll see you soon Tris."

She nodded.

"And Ror…" She flinched, "…Do you remember yet?"

"What are you talking about?"

That sick feeling was creeping back.

Poison.

He stared at the steering wheel. "Okay."

She didn't know what that meant.

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She dreamt that night.

Tripping on the way in, she was quickly tired.

She ate dinner quickly, mechanically.

Outside of her body, she thought about simple things.

Like hourglasses, and all that sand.

That pretty, coloured sand as it rushed through the curves.

She sometimes felt as if she was a grain, so slow at first, but then sliding, on air and momentum alone.

That feeling disappeared quickly, the high would die.

She was used to it.

It felt good while it lasted.

She was saddened to know it would always be that way.

She dreamt.

_Tristan smiled at her._

_ She impatiently flipped her hair away from her face. _

_It was red. _

_He kicked off the motorcycle and they flew. _

_It was weightless and it pleased her to know that he chose her to fly with. _

_Where are we going? She asked. _

_The moon._

_ He was equally as excited. _

_And so they went. _

_And it was a beautiful orb they were greeted with, not big, but light enough to adore his grace._

_They went back the next day and the next but on the third night he didn't come. _

_And from her window she could see the moon, and his footprints._

_But she never saw Tristan again. _

R woke up sweating.

She dialled his number.

It was disconnected.

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She woke up again.

It was early.

It was dark.

Impending, silent, waiting for her to slip.

She got up quietly, headed for the kitchen.

She was taken aback to see Lorelai sitting at the table, in track pants, no less.

"Hey mom," R felt dazed, "What are you doing up?"

"Oh, you know, this and that."

Lorelai was chirpy.

"This and that?" R smirked, "Like…?"

"Staring at our new fridge. I like it."

R gave her a funny look. "What are you talking about? We've had that fridge since we moved here."

"…It's new."

R looked at it.

And frowned to know that she was right.

It seemed to conform before her eyes.

Lorelai sighed and remarked, sadly and almost resignedly, "…I didn't think the old one would recover."

"I'm sure it would have." R joked, making the room a shade lighter.

Lorelai didn't answer.

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"Your phone was disconnected last night." She remarked casually.

"It was?"

"Or so the operator said…or lied."

Rory raised a cheeky eyebrow.

Tristan gave a brief smile.

It didn't quite reach.

"Must be something wrong with the reception. I'm sure its working now. Try it."

She did, and as he promised, it rung just fine.

There was something off about the ring tone, a few keys were strange…but then Tristan pointed out a balloon stuck in a tall tree and R spent the rest of the time in delight at his urgency to get it for her.

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R cried.

She didn't know why, or who, or where.

But it seemed as if the walls pushed down on her and made the tears come out.

And she wasn't even sure if they were hers, but they tasted like it.

Salty, because she hurt.

And Tristan came.

And she could feel the love he brought with him, and wrapped her up with.

She felt cared for, sleepy, cherished.

"I'm sorry you're upset."

He seemed helpless.

And he was right, he was helpless.

"I don't know why I am."

She was powerless too.

It was a draining of power, a blackness R couldn't see but could feel was coming.

She didn't know what it was.

"Hey, here's an idea, I'll bring you a truckload of starbuck's, how about it Mare?"

He elbowed her softly.

"No, that's alright." She answered softly.

He took her hand and patted it carefully.

It made her cry harder.

He was alarmed. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No."

"What should I do?"

"…Tell me a story."

She could feel his eyes softening.

"I don't know any stories Mare."

"What about the story of us?"

"What about it?"

Soft.

"How much do you remember?"

"All of it."

"Please?"

"Okay," A deep, exaggerated sigh, then, a smirk, "So…you and I met in summer, on the beach. We had a wild, crazy, teenager affair. I was so upset when I had to leave, because you had to go back to Australia-"

R laughed and he joined soon after.

She remembered why she loved him.

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R ran into Paris again.

It was accidental.

Paris seemed cursed to be accidental.

She turned away.

R stopped to pull her gently back, but hesitated.

But she didn't, and Paris seemed to turn her head, as if she wanted to turn back and look at her, but decided against it.

R was glad she didn't do anything.

She was glad Paris didn't do anything.

So many questions.

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"Peanut butter?" R asked in between mouthfuls.

"Peanut butter?"

Tristan wrinkled his nose.

"What are you talking about? You like peanut butter."

"Are we talking about the same person?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"…You do. You like it." She accused him uncertainly.

He shook his head. "I'm more the French toast kind. You know that."

"…Are you sure?"

She was upset.

His brow furrowed.

"You must…you must remind me of someone."

They both left it at that.

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They were sitting at the beach.

Her head was resting against his shoulder.

She pulled his hair affectionately.

"Has it ever occurred to you that that actually hurts?" He asked.

She laughed it off. "It doesn't hurt."

She tugged again.

He rubbed his hair, gave her a look, and tackled her.

Her squeals echoed along the shore.

She ran away from him, tripped and landed in a heap.

He followed suit.

She caught her breath as their laughter died off and they were left staring at each other.

"You're terrible for my energy levels." He whispered to her.

She felt enclosed in the secret.

Private, just for the two of them.

"You're terrible for my IQ."

She smirked as an outraged look followed her comment.

She was running from him again, the laughter trailing behind them like puddles.

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"Let's go visit our lemon tree." She suggested suddenly the next day.

He turned to give her a look.

"…Why?"

He ran a hand through his hair.

Her brow furrowed.

"Don't you want to?"

She pouted.

"Well, we planted it, its fine…" He recounted slowly, "…It's only been a few days. Why go back so soon?"

She took a step away from him.

"Why don't you want to?"

He shrugged.

"We'll go if you want."

"I don't want to go anymore." She said, crossing her arms.

He gave a deep sigh and cuffed her gently around the shoulder.

"C'mon," He laughed, "I'm driving."

She glanced at him.

He looked apologetic.

She gave a small smile.

"Okay."

"Race you."

He grinned.

She couldn't stop the smile.

He sprinted.

"Cheat!" She yelled after him as she went into pursuit.

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It wasn't dark anymore.

Not today.

The sky was quite clear.

R wanted there to be a fog.

She wanted bewilderment, but only because it was good right now.

Her.

Him.

Right at that moment.

She wanted to capture it in a net, hold it with her.

Stare at it in a jar and remember.

And smile at the memories.

She was scared.

She couldn't explain it.

She wanted the lemon tree and these moments behind glass.

"Mare?"

He interrupted her thoughts.

"Huh?" She turned.

He was standing a few feet away.

"It's still little."

He crouched next to the little tree.

"So it is."

She smiled, crouching down too.

"It's kinda cute."

He wrinkled his nose disdainfully at the thought.

She smile grew wider.

She moved her face closer.

He stared at her.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly, slowly, abruptly.

"For what? For not wanting to come?"

He hesitated, then slowly nodded.

"Yeah."

He seemed uncertain.

She pressed her lips against his.

"Don't be silly Bible boy. I love you."

His first genuine smile in a long time.

"Mary, if I could make you under-"

Her hand had been snaking around his neck.

"-Bible boy?"

She stopped him.

"Hm?" He was hazy from the smell of her.

"…Shut up."

She pulled him closer.

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She was brighter now.

She felt it.

It was engulfing, this fear of worse days.

She wanted to go out all night and sleep all day.

She picked up the phone.

She dialled his number automatically.

It just rung.

She was weightless as she waited.

He picked up, sleepy as hell.

"Hello?"

His groggy voice was blessed.

"Just wanted to say hello."

She sighed.

"Hello gorgeous."

He was more awake.

"Hello yourself sleepy head."

"Ready for our last day of high school?"

"Ready as I'll ever be as long as you're on time."

 "What time is it?"

"Five past eight."

"What?"

She could hear him jump up and she chuckled into the phone as he grunted and then obviously tripped, according to the thud.

"Don't. Say. A. Word."

He growled into the phone after a moment.

"I didn't say anything." She said innocently.

He smirked into the phone anyway.

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"I'm so proud of you." Lorelai said, touching Rory's face.

"I think…I think a few weeks ago I was angry at you."

Lorelai's face darkened.

Rory felt her head jolt in pain.

"Don't worry about it honey."

"I'm…I'm sorry. Did I…did I tell you that I hated you?"

She held her breath for the answer.

Lorelai exhaled for her. "Yes."

"I'm-"

"It wasn't your fault."

"…What wasn't?"

But before Lorelai could answer, Tristan came and dragged her away for graduation photos.

R turned around to see her mom again, but she had suddenly disappeared.

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"Yale, huh."

"Yep."

"Big."

"Very."

"Scared?" He asked her.

"No."

"Feisty."

"Hardly." She gave him an evil look.

"Mono syllabic at least."

"Correct."

"Purposefully?"

"Interrogation?"

"Too lazy."

He grabbed her around the waist.

She laughed.

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R had so much work to do.

Maybe it was because…maybe it was because she'd been feeling sick again lately and she wanted to leave it.

Her books stared back at her.

She was sad.

She hadn't seen Tristan in a few days, he was hard at work too.

He'd been strange lately.

Not abnormally strange, but too reassuring, too comforting, too nice.

It wasn't him and that was unfamiliar to her.

Impulsively, she picked up the phone.

No hesitating, and that worried her.

A few rings.

A few more.

She hung up.

He always had his phone on him, so why wasn't he picking up?

…Maybe she didn't try and call back again because she didn't want to know.

Simple.

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A knock on the door.

She opened it, pyjamas and all.

"Hello."

He smiled.

She smiled back, empty handed at words.

"Too early?"

He frowned.

"No."

"How are you?" He glanced at her desk, at all those books, "…Busy?"

He came in, sat down.

She shut the door.

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Rory was scared.

"Where's my mom?" She asked Tristan, the tears almost spilling over.

He looked scared too for a moment, she didn't understand why.

He gulped, hesitated.

"She's-" He glanced at her face again, "-She's at home Mare. Don't be silly. She's fine, what's wrong?"

He handed her the phone reassuringly.

She dialled slowly, the dread not going away.

Somebody answered.

As Rory spoke to Lorelai, Tristan left, and Rory wondered why.

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They were driving back to Stars Hollow for the day.

She wanted to see the lemon tree.

"So explain this to me in minute detail…why are we going to visit a lemon tree?"

He grinned at her cheekily.

She was offended as expected.

She didn't answer.

She stood at the top of the hill, the lemon tree still there.

"It's bigger than I remember."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Trees grow, Tris."

He gave a sheepish grin.

She frowned briefly, she'd never seen that grin before.

It disappeared before she could comment.

"No, I just…never mind."

He seemed sad.

R hurried to class.

"Mare!"

She turned around.

"Hello."

He kissed her.

"Hello yourself."

"Where you headed?"

"Class. I've gotta go, I'm quite late."

"Grab some coffee after?"

"Sure."

"We have to talk about something."

She gave a laugh. "Should I be nervous?"

He gave her an affectionate shove.

"No. I just want to talk to my girlfriend. Is that such a crime?"

"Course not."

She had a sinking in her stomach anyway, despite the imprint of blue burning in her mind.

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She saw him, sitting.

He acknowledged her with a small beckoning.

"So?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Nice greeting."

"Thanks." She said wryly.

"Rory, I need you to remember."

"Don't call me that," She scowled, "And remember what?"

She was irritated and didn't know why.

"You need to. I can't tell you what. It's important."

"Why are you being so cryptic?" She asked, puzzled, "Just tell me."

Exasperation.

"Why don't you remember?"

"Remember what?"

Frustration.

Maybe it was change of topic, maybe not.

"…You like being fenced off from me, from everybody. I don't understand it anymore."

A deep rooted pain in his voice.

"Tristan, you never did," She took his hand, apologetic for being blunt, "You can't change that about me the same as you can't change the fact that you're blond."

She added a laugh for good measure.

It came out small.

"…Ror-"

"-Its fundamental-"

"-Your hair's red."

She stopped.

"…They're streaks, Tristan."

She sighed.

There we no more words after that for a long time.

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Graduating from Yale wasn't as an exciting occasion as she had thought.

It was mostly boring, with dashes of achievement thrown in.

She felt sick again.

It'd been happening a lot lately.

She bit down on her lip and forced smiles.

She had a rotation of them.

One for when she felt genuinely happy to be going, one to cover at her sadness at leaving, one for when she was tired of genuinely smiling, one for when she was trying to be polite to strangers talking to her, and one for when she was with Tristan.

"It's boring here." Somebody whispered into her ear.

"You're telling me." She whispered back.

"Wanna leave?" He asked, eyes twinkling.

"What, and go where exactly?"

"Where ever suits your fancy Mary. Oh c'mon, it's all reminiscing with professors at this point anyway."

He grabbed her hand.

She revelled in the touch.

She nodded.

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He followed her in, the footsteps echoing silently in her mind.

Drenching her in reassurance.

"What do you think?" She asked, whirling around.

He shrugged, then nodded. "Not bad…could do with a Jacuzzi."

"Wanna buy me one?"

She raised an eyebrow, running her fingertip along a window ledge in the process.

As expected, it came off black.

"…Sure," He flipped out his phone, "Now, or later?"

She stuck out her tongue.

"Mature as ever." He noted, putting his phone away and grinning.

"Money flaunter."

She scrunched up her nose, stopped when she regretted saying it.

"Sorry." She said.

"S'okay."

"You're not. I was just kidding."

"So,.. dinner?" He coughed, changing the subject, for which they were both glad, "Mexican? French? Chinese?"

"I'd like…" She pretended to think, "You for dinner."

A sly smile.

She felt bad for her comment, they both knew it.

"Won't say no to that."

He opened the front door.

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"Mom?" R asked into the phone a little fearfully.

"Oh Rory…I can't believe it."

"What," R held her breath, "What happened?"

"They said that it's gone. The cancer's gone."

"…How did that happen?"

Shock.

"The treatment worked."

"They said…they said that…"

"…I know. They said that it was too late." Lorelai finished.

"Wow."

"Wow is right."

Rory had a sinking feeling, something she was missing, she didn't know what it was.

"Wanna celebrate kiddo? A trip maybe?"

"Sure mom, I'll call you later and we'll arrange something."

"New Orleans maybe? Hm, I love the sound of the place."

"I can't wait."

Rory sat down.

She didn't feel too good.

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When Tristan proposed, R was carefully trying to juggle a wine glass and her plate.

Reasonably, she almost dropped both as he got down on one knee.

She was a deep red and yet she felt very, very cold.

"...Mary, marry me."

She'd missed most his speech, but it would have been beautiful.

She could hear a growing buzzing.

Mutely, she nodded.

A stirring in her stomach.

They kissed.

R felt wrong.

But how could that be, when everything was so…perfect?

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She impatiently tapped the dash board.

"Pick up. Please." She whispered, clutching the phone tightly to her ear.

It just kept ringing.

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She walked through the doors.

And it was true, the house really was as big as it looked from the outside.

"It's beautiful." She breathed.

He nuzzled her neck.

"I know." He whispered, looking at her.

She gave him a look and laughed.

It kept rolling out of her like waves, and that happiness, the happiness that she felt at that moment, as she clasped her hands together and felt the jutting of the diamond into her pinkie…that happiness…she should have known.

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He came in.

Sunday night.

His phone had been switched off.

"Where have you been?"

She was sitting on the couch, tired as hell.

"Working." He said, the Armani sitting wonderfully.

"On a Sunday?"

"Why didn't you call?" He asked.

"I did."

He checked his phone, his eyes dark.

"…I didn't notice. It was on silent."

"Dinner's already cold. Heat it up in the microwave if you want. Tara's sleeping."

"…Isn't it her job to cook for us?" He asked, an eyebrow raised sarcastically.

"…doesn't she need sleep?"

She raised an eyebrow defiantly back.

He sighed.

"I don't want to get into this right now."

"Fine."

"Fine."

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She was sitting on the couch, arms folded.

Purse sitting next to her.

Phone clenched tightly in her hand. 

He walked in, three hours late, weary.

Her blue dress wrinkled from sitting.

"Tristan."

He stopped, ran a hand through his hair, sighed.

"You forgot."

"Forgot wha…where are you going?"

"Its our one year today Tris," She was hurt, "You forgot."

He slammed a palm to his forehead.

"Shit."

She sighed, seeing the blood shot eyes.

"Would you like some dinner?" She asked.

His eyes softened.

He nodded, putting his briefcase down.

"You work late." She said quietly.

"I do it for us." He answered, just as quietly.

As he placed a quick kiss to her forehead, she realised for the first time, every time, that it might always be this way.

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"It's a boy."

Rory nearly cried.

Her hair matted, she was sweating.

Exhaustion.

Tristan held her hand.

"Andrew."

She nodded.

Tristan closed his eyes.

Maybe too many times.

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"I'm not going to make it to Andrew's birthday."

"Tristan," R said, her voice low, "I promised him you'd be h-"

"-R," His voice trembling, "Don't you think I want to be home for my son's birthday? I can't okay? I have to work. I like it just as much as you do."

"Where are you today?"

Bitterness in her voice.

"London."

"Have fun." She said dryly.

"If you're going to be that way about it."

She sighed. "Look, I know you're sorry, it doesn't matter," She wanted to add, '_Andrew's used to it'_, but instead said, "I miss you."

The line grew fuzzy.

"Listen…" Static, "Go…bye."

A moment of clear.

"I love yo-"

The line clicked dead.

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R drunk tea with Paris.

Pleasant affair.

"How's business?" She asked.

"Doing quite well." Paris noted.

R was saddened to know that Paris and her weren't friends.

She was too cold for her.

R wanted warmth.

So she never asked about their Chilton days, and Paris never brought it up.

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R woke up in the middle of the night.

His light breathing alerted her.

For a second, she didn't know who he was.

She looked around, didn't know where she was.

She panicked and moved away from him slowly.

His bleary eyes looked up suddenly, blond hair mussed.

"Mare?"

Relief. "…Tristan."

She moved back.

It was okay now.

Everything was fine.

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"You're working late again?"

She frowned at him.

"They need me."

He looked for socks.

"And Andrew needs a father."

He glanced her sharply.

"Shut up." He growled.

She took a step back.

He looked surprised at himself. "I'm sorry."

"It's-It's alright."

The truth was that she was too taken aback to say anything else.

He came with his briefcase and his Armani, that blue tie.

He kissed her on the cheek.

She flinched away.

They both pretended not to notice.

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"Please Tristan, not tonight." R said as he was ready to walk out the door.

"I'll go see Andrew on Saturday."

"He'll be home before then. He's been asking for you."

"The boy only got his tonsils out for christ's sake Ror! It's not the end of the world."

"What's happened to you?" She asked suddenly in bewilderment.

"I work," He said, mouth grim, "Because I pay for the lifestyle this family's used to."

"That's not fair." She said after a moment of disbelief.

"No, it's not fair, but that's the way it is."

He slammed the door.

She could hear that slam for hours afterwards.

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R looked at him.

He looked at her.

"Who are you?" She whispered hoarsely, "You're not the man I married."

He was silent.

"This isn't a marriage Tristan. It's a battle ground."

"Why do we fight so much?" He asked in exasperation.

"Maybe we shouldn't."

"Fight so much? Easier said than done...look, I know I work alo-"

"-Maybe we shouldn't at all. I don't know how much more of this I can take."

He looked scared for a moment.

A deep scared though, it reflected in the depths of his eyes.

"Rory, I love you, I'm sorry, I'll try harder."

She'd heard it all before, and like all those times before, she believed him.

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R walked into the dark house.

She was tired, work, dropping Andrew off to various parties every weekend, stopping at the shopping centre to buy peanut butter because Andrew wouldn't eat anything else for breakfast, she wanted sleep.

She didn't know that when she walked into the bedroom Tristan would be home.

With someone.

A female, blonde someone.

Leggy.

The littered clothes on the bedroom said so.

They didn't lie at least.

"Rory!" He jumped up, startled.

She left.

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She drove for a long time to get to that lemon tree.

She walked, trudged up to it.

And…it wasn't there.

She whirled around.

It was empty, this spot.

Just a thicket of trees, a small clearing.

The air was thick with forgotten promises, words that could never be believed again.

It seemed righteous that the tree was gone.

"It was never here."

She couldn't mistake that voice.

"You followed me?"

She narrowed her eyes.

That sick feel was threatening to overwhelm here.

She staggered a little.

He looked concerned, no surprise.

"Did you see any lights behind you?"

Her brow furrowed.

"No." She admitted.

"Mare, remember."

"All these years you tell me to remember, what the hell are you talking about?" She burst out, her arm trembling in anger.

He was so sad.

The sun was coming up.

"Where's the tree?"

Her voice dropped.

"It was never here," He repeated, "We never planted it."

"What are you talking about?"

"You left before we could."

She didn't understand.

"Mare. Tell me about your mom."

"What do you mean?"

"She had cancer."

R lifted up her chin. "It went away."

"Not the kind she had."

"You're calling the doctors liars?"

"No, Rory. I mean that the kind of cancer she had doesn't usually go away. It would be a miracle. But you think it happened."

She frowned.

The pain in her stomach was increasing.

She sat down.

He sat down next to her.

She didn't have the strength to push him away.

She pulled her knees under her chin, hugging herself.

She was alone again.

"You were never alone."

She glanced at him sharply.

That pain…she grit her teeth.

She frowned again.

There was something she was missing…

"Keep going."

He looked scared himself.

She closed her eyes for a moment.

She could feel him watching her intently.

She sucked in a breath.

It came back, after so long.

_I remember. _

She didn't want to, but she did.

She hated the torrent of memories.

She hated every memory that came.

She started crying.

He pulled her closer, brushing her hair gently away from her now tear-streaked face.

_"Hey kiddo, its Luke…" He sounded as if he'd been crying, but that would be stupid, "…Your mom…we were just crossing the street after the concert…I don't know what happened…" It became blurry afterwards, she didn't hear much after that, fragments, "…They just drove off…St. Andrew's hospital…"_

She sat up, only sniffing occasionally.

"You tell people," He stopped for a moment, continued softly, "You tell people that she left when you were younger. You say that she left right before you graduated from Chilton."

"She died." Rory whispered, more to herself than him.

He didn't need to nod.

"You almost remembered a few times. You didn't want to…and so now, we're here. At this moment in time. That end you fear…its here Ror."

Rory's breathing grew raspy, she had a hard time breathing.

"Its okay Rory, don't be scared," Tristan's eyes were warm, she found comfort in them, "…You're just waking up."

He smiled at her sadly.

"What do you mean?"

She hugged herself tighter.

He kissed her and then looked straight at her.

She understood suddenly.

Clarity, like a laser.

"I'm dying."

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_"What's wrong?" She asked. _

_"We can just go straight there."_

_"Why?" Confusion. _

_R woke up sweating. She dialled his number. It was disconnected._

_He shook his head. "I'm more the French toast kind. You know that."_

_"…Are you sure?" She was upset. _

_His brow furrowed. _

_"You must…you must remind me of someone."_

_"It's bigger than I remember."_

_She rolled her eyes at him. "Trees grow, Tris." _

_"…Isn't it her job to cook for us?" He asked, an eyebrow raised sarcastically. _

_"…doesn't she need sleep?" She raised an eyebrow defiantly back. _

_He sighed. "I don't want to get into this right now."_

_"…You like being fenced off from me, from everybody. I don't understand it anymore." A deep rooted pain in his voice. _

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"After the accident, you become detached from me. You moved away. New York… to live with your dad. You left. You're thirty-one. You got hit by a car on your way to the office. You're in a coma…do you understand?"

Time was running out.

He was struggling for her.

Her legs went numb.

She nodded, tears coursing.

"…You're not real."

She didn't know whether or not she had said it out loud.

He took her hand.

His felt transparent, even now.

She felt like crying, and stamping her foot, screaming at him.

But all she could do was sit there.

He was fading.

"It was what you wanted to believe."

She found her voice. "Who was that in our bed? Why did you cheat?"

"I didn't," He searched her face, reaching her eyes, blurred, "You wanted me to."

She lost sensation in her torso.

If it wasn't for his arm around her shoulder, she would have fallen.

"It's what you wanted, what helped you move away, it made it easier for you to move away, to think about our future like that."

She didn't have the strength to nod.

He continued.

His voice tinged with regret.

"…You wanted me to be scum, and that's okay, but I just wanted you to know…we could have been happy, Mare. You didn't have to move. You pushed me away," He kissed her nose briefly, "But it was a long time ago R."

"Call me Rory." She whispered.

A smirk.

She could almost see through him.

"It was all an illusion?"

A pause.

A soft breeze.

"…Our happily ever after." He said softly, etched with desolation.

He kissed her forehead.

It felt like the shadow of air.

Her head hurt.

Her arms were shaking.

"Bye Tristan." She said softly, but he was already gone.

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She woke up to a startled Rosemary.

_Who's Tristan? _She asked, alarmed.

Rory turned her head, closed her eyes.

Rosemary called for the doctor frantically.

She wanted to remember it.

_Just_ _let me have this._

_Let me keep him. _

_But she remembered, finally. _

_And it felt good. _

_Rosie? _Rory asked quietly.

_Yeah, Ror? Oh honey, I'm so glad you woke up._

_Me too…but I just wanted to say, before I forget again…about my mom…_

_Tell me another time, just rest now. _

_…She…she died when I was seventeen. I'm sorry I lied…_

She felt a weightlessness of her body.

Silence.

_That's okay Ror…_Surprise at the sudden confession, th_e doctor's coming, you just hold on. _

_Rest now._

She closed her eyes too.

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Rory drove.

She was tired.

She had been driving quite a while, to get to New York.

She had visited Lorelai's grave.

It was funny though, all her life, most dreams disappeared, making her regret forgetting.

And as the rest of her dreams disappeared, this one became more vivid.

She missed Andrew.

She almost swerved.

Andrew wasn't real either.

But he was real enough for her memories as she had written them.

It was child like innocence, naivety at its best.

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She arrived a little while later, a long time to find parking.

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She rode the elevator, so many levels to go.

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The carpet was navy blue.

She smiled to know it would contrast his eyes perfectly.

_May I help you? _

Secretary.

Rory handed her the lemon tree, small, potted.

The woman took it somewhat reluctantly.

_Make sure Tristan Dugrey receives this. _

Rory began to walk away.

_Wait, _the woman called out, _Who should I say left it?_

Rory stopped, hesitated.

_No one, _She replied.

The note attached to a single branch, a final sentiment, a goodbye he would never understand.

_Tristan:_

_ I remember now. _

_Thank you. _

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  __


End file.
